Movie night and Art had a new barbecue to baptize. Tim debated with himself whether or not to go, he wasn't feeling all that good, but Art gave good barbecue, and who knew, maybe a night with his friends might help him feel better.
Not that Raylan wouldn't just drag him along anyway, but Tim decided he wanted to go.
The debate over which movie was something of a draw. Art wanted Spaceballs, Raylan wanted Out of Sight, which Art and Rachel howled down no busman's holiday and besides which Art really didn't want to see a movie that had Karen Goodhall as chief advisor, Tim really didn't know what he wanted, History of The World, Part One sounded really good but in between barbecue and the tension in his head he just let the others get on with it and said nothing, so Rachel came out on top with Leslie backing her up.
"Salmon Fishing In The Yemen it is then." Art shook his head in disbelief, but got the disk in and started playing it.
Barbecue was awful good, but somehow the smells didn't tempt Tim as much as he hoped they might. He barely registered that Raylan had moved closer, but suddenly Raylan's shoulder looked mighty comfortable.
He hurt, his leg felt like it was on fire and the rest of him was being scorched.
"Tim." A nice warm, motherly voice was calling his name, and he smiled. A gentle hand stroked his hair and felt his forehead.
Then Raylan's voice, "C'mon darlin' I think you need your bed." That was very nice too, because Raylan had called him darling.
He let them lift him to his feet, but that wouldn't do, "arms round my neck, Tim." Sleepily he complied, Raylan scooped him up, staggered under his weight, and then they were moving, Tim's head drooping against Raylan's shoulder.
Then he was lying down on a bed and hands were touching his leg. It hurt a lot, and Tim moaned in protest.
Leslie Mullen had worked all areas of the hospital. Five years in ER, another five in theatre after she returned to work after her first baby, and then several years on different wards until she retired. Tim's leg was hot, and sore, and the closer she got to the dressing, the worse things got.
Tim was obviously in considerable distress, flinching when Leslie touched the bandages. Until Raylan lay down next to Tim and pulled the younger man close to his chest.
Tim burrowed against his friend and lay still. Finally Leslie could get the bandages off.
The last few turns of the bandage were gooey and stained with fluids, the dressings were soaked in draining lymph and the whole thing had a fairly unpleasant aroma. The flesh beneath the dressings swollen and hot to the touch.
"He's got another infection." Leslie got to her feet. "Art, get a bowl of hot water, and my supplies from the bathroom cabinet."
Art rushed to comply, and Raylan held on to Tim, who was resting against his shoulder, and tried not to mind the sight as his boss's wife cleaned the shoddy work that the doctor had done.
When the pile of sterilized swabs had gone from a tiny mound to almost a bucketful, Leslie finally pronounced herself satisfied with the cleanliness of the wound, then came dressings and a clean bandage. By the time she was done Tim had fallen asleep with his head on Raylan's shoulder. Raylan's eyes were mostly closed and he barely acknowledged what Leslie was saying.
She smiled. They both needed a night's sleep, and since they were both either there or nearly there, she picked up the comfort quilt from the chair in the corner of the room. Noted that Raylan had actually toed out of his boots before lying down on her bed, she covered them over and gently tucked them in, tried not to be amused when Raylan sleepily muttered something, rolled and gathered Tim even closer.
Art and Rachel were hovering outside the door. Leslie sighed, "Art, I'm going to call Tom in the morning, there's no point in taking him back to the hospital, Tim's leg needs to be seen by someone good."
Tom Warden was an old friend, Art acknowledged the wisdom of that as Leslie said "it looks like we have two houseguests."
Art rolled his eyes.
Rachel hid a smile, and shared a look of feminine understanding with Leslie.
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Epiphanies were a bitch. Especially if they came at 6am, when waking up was a chore that had to be completed, and the day was going to force him away from Tim's side.
It was hard to leave. Not that Tim wasn't in good hands, but that it was his fault that he was in the position in the first place.
No. More than that. His fault, true enough. But Tim was nice to hold, and in that space where exhaustion fought duty of care and won, the kiss was a magic incantation of promises.
Raylan wasn't an idiot. He knew that it would be damn easy to love Tim. They only had to look at each other, and Raylan only had to start talking about apricots and knowing that this shit made Tim hard.
He made Tim hard. That's why he boasted about Tim's skills every opportunity he got, because it made Tim hard and the knowledge of that made Raylan very hard indeed.
It wasn't just the shit, it was Raylan's words. He could look at Tim and go weak and hard at the same time.
It was love. Real, honest-to-god unconditional love. It was burning a hole in his heart, and the devil's coach and four through his defenses.
Now he had to get up, so that he could go home and change in time for work, and he would have to leave the loved one. It just seemed to happen that he would mark his place with a kiss.
Tim's lips were soft and kissable, and Raylan only intended it to be a quick peck. But Tim moaned sleepily, his lips parted and the tip of his tongue caressed Raylan's bottom lip. That was all the invitation that Raylan's already shaky self-control needed.
The kiss was hot, and slow, and sensual and Raylan's body wanted to demand more, but Tim was sick and hurting and that would be too cruel. Head ruled heart as Raylan gently banked the fires down. Slipped from the bed, tucked the bedding very carefully around Tim, who moaned something slurred and a bit irritable, and cuddled into the warm place that Raylan had left.
Raylan threw his clothes on, bent to kiss Tim softly on the forehead, scribbled a hasty but heart-felt note to Leslie and Art and departed before his body prompted him to do something that might have set back Tim's recovery.